


Red Right Hand

by Anonymous



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Banter, Blood and Gore, Bone Breaking, Corruption, Creampie, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Drugging, Guro, Implied Lonelyeyes, Kidnapping, Light Angst, Light breeding kink, M/M, Mindbreak, Needles, One Shot, Photography, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Probably very OOC, Self-Harm, Smoking, Threats of blackmail, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, a little angst at the end, abuse of jon's healing powers, but i mean he is into it so, dubcon maybe?, extreme masochism, extreme sadism, gut fucking, hoo boy, i hesitate to call this noncon bc jon is into it so, little a cannibalism as a treat, longish one shot, lots of blood, more detailed warnings inside, not the entity tho, please read the tags, this has been sitting in my docs for months, wildly unsafe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28237728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He'll wrap you in his armsTell you that you've been a good boyHe'll rekindle all the dreamsIt took you a lifetime to destroyHe'll reach deep into the holeHeal your shrinking soulBut there won't be a single thing that you can do---Elias decides to test the limits of Jon's healing abilities for his own amusement.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 23
Kudos: 55
Collections: Anonymous





	Red Right Hand

**Author's Note:**

> More specific warnings:  
> -Elias puts needles through Jon's nipples (one in each)  
> -Elias breaks all of Jon's fingers one by one  
> -Elias cuts him open several times to gutfuck him and feel up his insides  
> -Jon slices his arm open towards the end  
> -Elias eats a small chunk of Jon flesh  
> -Elias takes photographs and threatens Jon with blackmail  
> -JON IS INTO ALL OF THIS. I wanted it to be in character so yes he is horrified at first but he's also equally turned on

_Jon used to not dream at all._

_Every once in a while something fleeting would captivate his mind, but it would be gone by the time he woke. He couldn’t tell you the last dream he had, if he’d even had one at all. He got the afterimages of them sometimes, waking up to the phantom feeling of spider legs crawling up his arms or to the distinct feeling of being watched. But his dreams had never been any more prominent in his mind than the act of breathing or blinking._

_Now he dreams in vivid red, in blood and viscera and teeth and bones._

_He dreams of cold steel biting into his skin, tearing deep and rough, and of fingers desperately widening the hole to make way for hot, aching flesh. He dreams of a hole stabbed in his throat, a hungry tongue lapping up the blood there as he gasps and chokes for air. He dreams of the horrible ripping sound of flesh and the familiar silhouette above him holding a chunk of him in its teeth, the only thing visible in the dark. He dreams of piercing yellow eyes watching him, above him, drinking in and delighting in every violent, bloody moment of the scene before them. He dreams of his ribs being cracked open, lungs and other obstructions pulled aside. He dreams of needy hands clasping around his still-beating heart and pulling it up and out of his chest, holding it triumphantly. By some miracle it’s still attached to him by arteries and veins, some of which have snapped like flimsy wires, spraying blood all over himself and the figure above. He dreams of stark white teeth sinking into the frantically pumping organ, and he dreams of some distant far away laughter as the sound of something bursting with a distinct wet gush fills his ears._

_He wakes up in a cold sweat, his heartbeat whooshing in his ears as he clutches his chest frantically. No matter how many times he wakes up from these dreams knowing that’s all they are, the urge to make sure he hasn’t sustained any real injuries always overtakes him, and he spends a good hour in front of the mirror inspecting his body before he’s comfortable enough to start trying to calm himself down. He sits awake, staring at nothing. The nothing is comforting. It’s a dull grey in the darkness of his room, comforting in its distinct lack of redness. Comforting in its lack of visual stimuli._

_Sometimes he’s able to calm down enough to go back to sleep now, and the dreams do not seem to want to repeat themselves in the same night. At first though, he would lay awake and paranoid, so sure that the dreams were some sort of threat that he didn’t dare let his guard down. This led to many sluggish, tired days at work, and eventually he became too tired and too used to the dreams to care whether or not he let his guard down._

_He knows exactly when and why they started. He can pinpoint their reason with 100% accuracy, and that reason sits at an immaculately polished desk with neatly filed papers in an equally well kept office. That reason wears impeccably crisp pressed suits and more perfume than any normal person reasonably would, and that perfume never seems to fully cover the scent of blood that lingers on him._

_That reason is Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute, and he is the new bane of Jon’s existence._

***

Jon’s eyes adjusted slowly when he opened them, unsure of where he was or how he got there. He found himself looking at the ceiling, lights a soft bleary yellow shade. Blinking, he tried to sit up, but he couldn’t. It took him a moment to realize why. 

His wrists and ankles were strapped to a table.

This made his eyes shoot open, adrenaline and panic rushing through his system as he tried desperately to move, to figure out what was going on. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing becoming panicked, but labored. His head felt foggy, like he still wasn’t fully conscious. 

“Ah, you’re awake!” A door opened, and a familiar voice came with it. “I was worried I’d given you too much. But it looks like it was just enough!” Jon’s throat was dry, and he managed to speak, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, making his words slurred.

“Elias…” He slurred, trying to lift his head to look at him, and only able to turn it to the side. He hadn’t realized how weak and limp his body was until now, and that sent him panicking even further. He knew what Elias was capable of, he knew how sadistic he could be. He wondered briefly if this was going to be some sort of assault on his mind, like with Melanie and Martin. Elias walked into his view, smiling politely as always.

“You’re very confused right now, I’m sure. You probably don’t even remember being drugged. Poor thing.” His smile widened, and there was only mocking pity in his voice. “I thought it was about time you and I had a little… meeting, of sorts. I’ve seen how your powers are emerging, and I thought it might be beneficial to test them out!” There was a glint in his eyes, like nothing he’d ever seen before. Jon didn’t like it.

“You… what…?” The words fell from his mouth clumsily.

“Well, I won’t lie, this is partially for fun.” Elias thought for a moment. “Alright, it’s mostly for fun. Guilty as charged.” Jon watched as he walked over to a desk, and realized with sudden clarity that they were in Elias’ office. How had he gotten a table in here? Elias opened a drawer, answering Jon’s question for him. “I have ways. Besides, it’s not like getting a table in here is the hardest thing I’ve done.” Elias chuckled, pulling out a few things and setting them on his desk. Jon couldn’t see what they were from this angle, and that just made him more nervous. 

Elias walked over to him, hands empty, and rested them on the side of the table, leaning forward and looking over the archivist, like he was a particularly decadent meal and Elias didn’t know what he wanted to eat first.

He seemed to make his decision after a moment, moving one hand to rest on Jon’s stomach. He traced his fingers down over his hip bone, simply looking at him. Watching with hungry yellow eyes. Drinking him in like wine. Jon hadn’t realized he was naked until now. Somehow, that didn’t do anything to comfort him.

“You’re getting quite thin, Jon. Have you been eating enough?” He smirked, moving a finger down his ribcage, bumping over each rib in succession. Jon swallowed. Something was wrong. Every touch felt distant, almost numb. The sensation was still there, but it was dulled. Elias seemed to pick up on his thoughts. “You’ll thank me for it, I promise.” His smile looked particularly wicked, and Jon’s stomach twisted in a way he really didn’t like.

“Why… Are you doing this…?” Jon fumbled, goosebumps rising on his skin as Elias moved a finger up his breastbone.

“Maybe I’m a bit curious to see how human you still are. Maybe I want to build your character. Maybe I’m just a sadistic bastard. Probably a little of each.” He chuckled, putting both hands on Jon’s chest, feeling him up, palms running over his nipples. Jon grunted softly, nerves still very much alive and firing in that area. If this was all Elias was planning to do, he could handle it. He wouldn’t enjoy it, but he could handle it. One hand moved up to his throat, choking him lightly as Elias studied his expression.

“What are you… going to do…?” Jon rasped, trying to swallow against the pressure on his windpipe. Elias just laughed.

“Eager, are we? I can’t blame you. I’m itching to get started too…” He let go of Jon’s throat, hand moving down his body, and between his legs. Jon bit his tongue as Elias’ fingers probed at his entrance. “My, you _are_ excited… Of course, you’re quite touch-starved. I shouldn’t be surprised that just that little bit of teasing would get you soaked.” His eyes had that dark glint in them again. Just when Jon thought he was going to slip his fingers inside him, Elias pulled them away, licking Jon’s wetness off of them. The archivist looked away, feeling his face heat up.

Elias walked back to his desk, picking something up. Jon didn’t realize what it was until he felt the duct tape over his mouth. His eyes went wide, and a fresh wave of dread washed over him. What was Elias going to do that would require the duct tape to quiet him?

“You’ll see.” Elias answered, walking back over to his desk and grabbing a couple more things, setting them on a smaller table next to where the archivist was restrained. Jon could do nothing but watch as he pulled on a pair of black latex gloves. “Now, why don’t we start small? As much as I’d like to get right into the good part… I’ll hold back. Foreplay is important.” He grinned to himself, his teeth looking almost sharp. Jon made a noise of confusion and protest against the tape over his mouth, realizing just how muffled his voice was. If he’d wanted to use his powers to get out of this before, he certainly couldn’t now.

Elias picked up what looked like a bottle, wetting a cotton ball with it. He reached forward, rubbing it over one of Jon’s nipples. The cold, followed by the quick drying sensation told Jon exactly what it was. Rubbing alcohol. That made his heart skip a beat. His mind raced with possibilities as Elias rubbed it over his other nipple. He set the cotton ball down, and picked something up. Jon couldn’t see what it was, but he realized when he saw it glint in the light.

It was a needle. And Jon knew exactly where it was going.

He tried to fight against his restraints, panicking and thrashing weakly, uselessly. He cried out, desperate, hoping someone would hear him. Elias just watched patiently until Jon had worn himself out enough to go limp against the table, his breathing heavy and labored.

“Are you quite finished?” Elias asked, looking like a teacher who was exasperated waiting for his students to quiet down. Jon whimpered pitifully. He wanted to beg Elias not to, to ask him why he was doing this, but he couldn’t. “Good. I’d advise against making a fuss like that. You’ll only make things harder for yourself. Besides, with the sedative I gave you, this should hurt much less than it normally would. Honestly, it was quite nice of me to do that. I’m even disinfecting everything. You could have much worse people doing this to you. You should be thankful.” 

Jon let out a huff of laughter at the absurdity of it all, his heart pounding as Elias leaned in close, his warm breath on Jon’s skin. The archivist wanted to cry out, to scream, but he couldn’t even do that much. He knew Elias was right about moving not doing anything but hurting him more, so he stayed still, only able to watch helplessly as his boss, with a steady hand, placed the very point of the needle against the side of one of his nipples. He wasn’t sure whether watching would make it better or worse, but he decided he didn’t want to totally be taken by surprise when it went in.

Elias looked up at him, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“If you don’t make any noise, I won’t do the other one.” He said, hardly giving Jon a moment to process what he’d said before pushing the needle into him.

Pain. Searing, sharp pain shot through his nerves, and Jon screamed against the tape. He couldn’t stop it. It felt like fire, like a deep, painful ache that pulsed through his every cell in his body. Tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over just as quickly. He lay there, whimpering and crying out desperately as Elias stood up, admiring his work. Jon sobbed, feeling the pain subside to a slightly duller throb. If Elias was telling the truth about this being less painful than usual, then he didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like without the drugs in his system.

“You know, I almost got piercing needles and barbells, but I changed my mind last minute. Now I’m sort of wishing I hadn’t…” Elias chuckled, looking at Jon’s pained expression. The archivist did his best to glare daggers at him, but Elias’ smile only widened. “Oh, that’s a scary look, Jon. You must really hate me now.” He laughed, as if he’d told a very funny joke.

Elias walked over to him, putting a hand on his thigh and rubbing it gently. Jon’s body twitched involuntarily, everything in him on edge from the pain.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be giving you more of that sedative soon enough. Not enough that you can’t feel anything, I’m not that nice. But enough to make sure you don’t pass out on me.” He smirked, making Jon’s blood boil. 

Once he got tired of waiting, he walked back over to his small table, picking up another needle. Jon whimpered helplessly.

“I know,” Elias said in a mocking imitation of pity. “But you screamed, so I’m afraid I have to. Nobody’s fault but yours.” He patted Jon’s cheek condescendingly, and the archivist gave him another venomous look.

Jon watched as Elias walked to the other side of the table, positioning himself just as he had before. At least he knew what to expect this time, Jon thought, though it did little to comfort him. This time, just as he was about to push the needle through, Elias locked eyes with Jon, that hungry look back in them. Jon found himself unable to do anything but look into those hypnotic yellow eyes as Elias slowly, torturously pushed the needle through. Jon cried out desperately, tears running down his face, but it was like he couldn’t move, like Elias was keeping him locked in place with his gaze. Was that something he could do?

“All done!” Elias announced finally, breaking eye contact and standing up. The pain hit Jon all at once now, wracking his body with another sob. It shot through his body, and he hated it when he felt it make his clit ache with pleasure and pain all at once. The shame wracked his body just as much as the lingering agony. He let himself go limp after a moment, unable to anything but lay there and sob weakly, trying not to focus on the throbbing ache in his chest, though admittedly there wasn’t much else to focus on.

Elias walked over to his desk, sitting on it and pulling something else out of the drawer. Jon was afraid for a moment, until he realized it was just a pack of cigarettes. Elias pulled one out, putting it in his mouth and getting a lighter out of his pocket. He noticed Jon watching him, and smirked.

“You don’t mind if I smoke, do you? I’d offer you one, but…” He trailed off, looking smug as he lit the cigarette, putting his lighter down on the desk. He sat there, just smoking and watching Jon closely. It made him feel like a frog on a dissection table. 

He hated it.

He hated Elias. So, so much. He was beginning to truly understand how Melanie felt.

One he’d just about finished his smoke, Elias walked over to Jon, taking it out of his mouth and tapping ashes onto his face. Jon glared at him again.

“Oops, sorry.” Elias said, absolutely no emotion in his voice. He leaned down, eyes locking with Jon again as he ground the still burning head of it into the archivist’s wrist, taking him by surprise and making him cry out. Jon tried to move his arm, but he couldn’t. Elias held it, watching as the burn healed itself almost as quickly as it had appeared. “Fascinating…” He murmured to himself before walking over to his desk to put the cigarette out properly in his ashtray. 

Jon could still feel the searing pain of it, even though his wound had already healed. It was nothing compared to shaking hands with Jude Perry, but it was far from pleasant all the same.

“I’m going to unstrap your arm for a moment to do something.” Elias announced, looking at Jon seriously. “You won’t do anything stupid, if you value the minds of the people close to you staying intact.” His eyes were dark, and Jon knew he wasn’t bluffing. He nodded, and Elias’ polite smile returned. “Very good.” He said, unstrapping Jon’s wrist, taking his hand in his own and looking at it. Jon realized as he watched his arm move limply that he couldn’t likely do anything with it even if he wanted to. Still, he made an effort to stay calm.

Elias turned Jon’s hand over, tracing a finger along his palm, making Jon shiver. His hands were a particularly sensitive spot. He watched as Elias took his finger in his hand, and only realized what was about to happen moments before it did.

_Crack._

Jon cried out in pain as his finger was broken, snapped backwards and out of place, the sickening noise it had made echoing in his ears. His eyes focused on his tormentor, wide and panicked. Elias just laughed.

_Crack._

“You know what the best part of this is, Jon?” Elias asked, moving now to his third finger as the archivist sobbed and tried in vain to beg him to stop.

_Crunch._

“I could do this as many times as I wanted.”

**_Crack._ **

“And you would heal up almost as quickly as I’d broken you!”

 _Snap._

Elias moved on to his thumb now, Jon’s face already a mess of tears and snot.

**_Crunch._ **

He walked over to the other side, unstrapping Jon’s other limp hand. He tried to make it move even a little, but it just stayed like it was, like an animal that didn’t know it was right in a hunter’s sights.

_Snap._

“I could do this over and over again,”

**_Crack._ **

“As many times as I wanted!”

**_Snap._ **

“And it would still hurt just as much every time!”

_Crunch._

“Sure, you might get used to it a bit, but…” He moved on to Jon’s other thumb, eyes locked on to the archivist’s face.

**_Craaaaaaaack._ **

“It would still hurt like _hell_.” Elias made sure to draw out the final break, seeming to relish in the defeated whimper Jon let out. 

Jon felt his vision blurring at the edges. Everything was a warped mess of pain, his head throbbing and swimming with the effort of even processing it. It all hurt so much, pain shooting up his arms, not as intense as the pain in his chest, but still nothing he wanted to bear any longer. He blinked once, twice, his head feeling heavy. He could hear Elias saying something, but it was muffled and far away. His eyes fell closed, and everything began to fade away into darkness.

***

_He felt like he was floating in a deep inky black sea. Everything was dark, and as his eyes opened, he relished in it. He wondered for a moment if he was dead, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. He was dreaming, just dreaming. He let his eyes wander, taking in the sheer lack of light or presence of anything or anyone but himself. It was quiet. It was peaceful._

_Until he felt something wrong._

_He looked around, his heart pounding. The tranquility of complete solitude lost now and replaced with panic as he tried to figure out what was wrong. His eyes fixed on some random, unidentified point in the darkness. He wasn’t sure why._

_And then the eye opened._

_It was impossibly huge, yellow, glowing brightly, and looking right at him, right through his soul. He opened his mouth to scream, but no noise came out._

***

Jon woke up with a start, his cheek stinging with pain. Elias looked down on him, frowning.

“Trying to get out already? Pathetic.” He scoffed, looking disgusted. Jon’s heart was still pounding. “You’re not getting away from me, Jon. Even if you black out, I’ll be in your dreams. You’re not leaving until I decide you get to. _Is that clear_?” His voice was low and dangerous, and Jon could do nothing but nod. Elias’ polite smile returned once again, and he patted the cheek he must have just slapped.

Elias walked over to his desk to get more supplies and change his gloves, and Jon realized that his fingers weren’t broken anymore. They must have righted themselves when he was out. Unfortunately, there were still two needles in his nipples, but he figured he needed to pick his battles at this point.

Elias had placed a few different things on the small table, though Jon couldn’t see what any of them were from where he was laying. He felt a sudden pang of the pain rocketing through him anew, and clenched his fists. He realized, then, that he’d just been able to move his hands. Whatever drug Elias had given him must be starting to wear off.

“Don’t worry, I’m about to give you more.” Elias said offhandedly. “Though I’ve got half a mind to just let it wear off as punishment for you passing out on me.” He gave Jon a look that made his blood run cold. “But I won’t do that. I’m too nice.” He smirked, picking something up off the table.

He unstrapped one of Jon’s arms, pulling a leather strap of some kind tight around his bicep. He held Jon’s forearm, thumb searching for a vein in the crook of his elbow. He found one that was usable, and disinfected it with rubbing alcohol. Jon found himself unable to look away as Elias picked up a hypodermic needle, taking it out of its sterile packaging, and stuck it through the top of a bottle, filling it with a very precise amount of liquid. Jon wondered briefly how Elias had managed to drug him beforehand, but the thought left his mind as he watched him flick the syringe, making sure there were no air bubbles in it. 

Elias took Jon’s arm again, easily slipping the needle into the vein he’d found. It was a small pinch, the least pain Jon had felt this whole time so far. He would have laughed, but he didn’t much have the stomach to right now.

Slowly, Elias injected the liquid into him. Jon gritted his teeth, looking away. He didn’t mind needles going into him, but he hated knowing any foreign liquid was being pushed into his bloodstream. Something about it just made him ill.

Elias finished, taking out the needle and quickly placing a cotton ball over it, wrapping some sort of bandage around it and taking the tourniquet off of Jon’s arm. He went to throw the needle away, and sat back on his desk, watching Jon.

“It’ll take a moment to kick in. Mind if I have another smoke?” He asked, though he was already halfway through taking a cigarette out of its box and bringing it to his lips. Jon shook his head, sighing. He laid back as the smell of cigarette smoke filled the room. He wished he could be having one right now too, frankly.

Jon let his eyes close, and for a while he didn’t feel any difference. When he did, though, he knew it was the drug. His whole body went even more limp than it had before, and his eyes opened. His vision was a little hazy, and there was the faintest tingling situation in his face. He’d been put under for surgery before, but this was something entirely different. He had no idea what Elias had given him, but the pleasant tingling sensation spread over his body, and he felt it relax even more. His cunt ached suddenly, and he let out an involuntary moan. Elias looked up from his cigarette.

“I suppose it’s kicking in, then? Excellent.” He stubbed out his cigarette and walked back over to Jon, taking something out of his pocket. “You don’t mind if I take some pictures, do you? You look so nice like this, I can’t resist.” Elias grinned, and even in his muddled state Jon knew it wouldn’t matter if he said yes or no. He couldn’t do anything but watch as his boss took picture after picture of him in this humiliating position. He made sure to get plenty of angles too.

Once he was done, Elias put his phone back in his pocket, going to gather supplies from the table. Jon laid there in wait, his heart beating slowly and loudly in his ears. He wondered what Elias was planning now, but his brain was far too muddled to think about it in any great detail. His boss walked over again, setting something else down on the table. He looked at Jon and chuckled.

“Your pupils are huge. You look so stupid right now it’s almost cute.” He picked up a wad of gauze this time, pouring alcohol over it. Alarms started to go off in the back of Jon’s mind, but they were just as foggy as any other thought in his head right now. Elias wiped down Jon’s entire front torso with the alcohol soaked gauze before setting it aside and opening up another sterile package. He held up the scalpel that had been inside, looking excited. His yellow eyes flicked to Jon, absolutely ravenous now.

Elias got up on the table, straddling Jon, scalpel in hand. He licked his lips, like this was a meal he’d been waiting his whole life to eat. His eyes flicked over the archivist’s body, and finally he locked eyes with him again.

“I’m so excited, I don’t even know how to start…” He chuckled breathily. “I thought the nicotine would help, but I should have known I’d be worked up no matter what I did...” He held the scalpel in position, and only now did the fear really start to surface in Jon’s mind. Elias picked a small patch of skin just below Jon’s breastbone, and made a small cut, only a few inches long.

Jon felt it. He wasn’t sure how much he’d thought the drug would dull the pain, but it still felt like a very bad papercut. And this wasn’t even too terribly deep. A small whimper worked its way out of his throat. Elias watched as blood beaded up at the cut for a few moments before it closed up just as quickly.

His boss’ breathing was shaky, heavy with some dark hunger. Elias licked his lips again, and placed his scalpel a bit further down, making several cuts this time. He quickly took his phone out again, getting another picture before the wounds closed up. 

“You’re amazing… He swallowed, showing the picture he’d taken to Jon. He’d written his name in his skin with the scalpel. Just the thought of it made Jon shiver. Hopefully all Elias was planning to do was cut him up a little.

He knew he was wrong as soon as the thought crossed his mind. Elias moved back a little, setting his phone down on the table. He clearly wanted to be ready to get a picture of what he was about to do. He placed the scalpel a few inches above one of Jon’s hip bones, horizontal instead of vertical this time. 

He pressed the scalpel in, cutting far deeper than any wound he’d made before. Jon’s eyes shot open, every part of his brain firing on all cylinders now. The pain was like nothing he’d ever felt, deep and sharp and searing. He screamed, though it did nothing to lessen the sensation of being neatly torn open. Elias just watched with fascination, and Jon realized just how fitting his mental analogy to being a frog on a dissection table was. Once he’d made the cut, Elias still hadn’t gotten as deep as he wanted.

He went in to cut through another layer of Jon’s skin, making the archivist cry out anew. This was even worse, the deep ache of the first intensified by hundreds of times. He didn’t want to know how it would feel without the drugs. He screamed and screamed, knowing all he was doing was making his throat raw and wasting energy, but it was all he could do. He was a prisoner in his body, forced to watch and feel his boss slicing into his abdomen.

After a moment, Elias seemed satisfied with his work. He set the scalpel aside onto the wad of gauze, eagerly reaching down with his fingers and pushing Jon’s flesh aside. The archivist groaned in pain, a weak sob escaping him. It felt wrong. It felt so wrong. His body wasn’t meant to do this, wasn’t meant to take it without true anesthesia.

He could hear Elias’ heavy breathing as his boss slipped a few gloved fingers into the opening he’d made, an unidentifiable noise escaping his throat when his fingers first touched Jon’s intestines. The archivist sobbed again as the other man reached in further, moving his hand a bit more. Elias let out a breathy moan, and Jon realized with dawning horror that he was getting off on this.

“This is amazing…” Elias said, more to himself than to Jon. “It’s so soft and warm inside…” He swallowed, his breath unsteady. He moved his hand more, making Jon cry out. It was so much pain, so intense he felt like he’d go insane. His mind was straining to comprehend it all. Even having two of his ribs removed by the Boneturner hadn’t felt like this. Like he was raw and exposed.

Elias licked his lips, curling his fingers slightly. Jon moaned weakly, the pain so horrible it was almost dulling itself now. Like it was too much for his brain to even process, so it looped around to being weak again.

“Hah… Oh, I need a picture of this…” Elias said, picking up his phone with his free hand and hastily taking a few pictures, holding the wound open at one point to get a picture of Jon’s exposed organs. The archivist swallowed, whimpering weakly. He felt like a whore.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Elias took his hand out and watched the wound slowly close up. He let out another long, shuddering breath. He didn’t seem to care that the crotch of his pants was soaked through with blood. Jon supposed that was likely the last thing on his mind.

“Fuck…” Elias looked at his hand, blood dripping down his arm. “I need to do that again.” Jon cried out in protest, but it fell upon deaf ears as Elias disinfected his scalpel once again, blood still all over his gloved hands and running in rivulets down his arms. Some had even managed to stain his white button-up shirt, but Jon almost suspected he’d wanted that.

This time, the incision was just below his breastbone, but much deeper, and it ended an inch or so above where Elias had cut him up before. It was right down the center, and Jon could hardly even scream anymore as his boss opened him up.

Elias spread open the incision when he was done, practically moaning as he ogled Jon’s guts. The archivist let out a weak sob, and he’d never wanted to die more than in that moment. Elias reached in again, almost salivating, and ran a gloved finger along one of Jon’s shuddering lungs. Jon sobbed as the other man grabbed his phone again, getting picture after picture and making sure to include Jon’s expression of pure pain and misery in each of them. 

Elias was panting now, and Jon could see the outline of his cock straining against his trousers. It would have almost been funny to see the usually composed and businesslike Elias allowing himself to get dirty and openly aroused like this if Jon wasn’t the one suffering for it.

His fingers greedily felt whatever he could reach, poking and prodding, feeling him up inside like he was a teenager groping his girlfriend in the back of a car. Jon had fully devolved into broken sobs by now, and the sobs quickly gave way to more screams as he watched Elias undo his pants, pulling down his underwear and letting his hard cock bounce free. Precum was leaking from the head, and it was red and aching with arousal. Some blood had soaked through his clothes deep enough to smear it, but Jon knew it was about to get much worse.

Elias made eye contact with Jon as he took his cock in his hand, moving forward to gently rub it against the archivist’s exposed organs, feather-light and teasing at first. But he seemed impatient, so it wasn’t long before he slowly began to sink his cock into the wet heat of Jon’s insides.

He really moaned now, and Jon could see goosebumps rise on his arms. He cried out, wanting to move, to do anything to fight back, but he couldn’t. This was so disgusting, it was insane, it couldn’t be happening.

Elias moved his cock with unsteady shuddering motions, and Jon wanted to vomit as he felt it twitching inside of him, where it absolutely should not be. His boss grunted, and after a few more sloppy thrusts, he pulled out, stroking himself to completion, painting Jon’s organs with his cum.

Jon sobbed as Elias sat back and took plenty more pictures before watching the opening close itself like nothing had ever happened. He felt so disgusting, so humiliated, and he wanted so badly for his mind to break so he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. He lay there for a while, just crying and screaming and begging as much as he could against the tape on his mouth for Elias to let him go, to stop torturing him and just kill him already. But he knew that wouldn’t happen. Elias had set his mind to doing this, and he wouldn’t stop until he was done.

Jon was so wrapped up in his misery, he didn’t notice Elias grabbing a knife off of the table. He only noticed when it plunged into his belly, making him scream with newfound pain. Elias took out the knife, and quickly eased his cock into the hole, somehow already hard again. This time, his thrusts were rougher, more like he was really fucking Jon. 

The archivist cried out, his whole body tense and wracked with pain. He felt like something inside him was going to break, and suddenly, without any warning at all, he came.

His orgsam tore through him, making him moan loudly, his cunt aching and the pain making it thousands of times more intense than it would normally be. He was sobbing, sobbing because he had never cum that hard before, and it was amazing.

Once he’d come back to his senses, Elias pulled his cock out of the hole he’d made, laughing like he’d just seen the funniest thing ever.

“Oh my god, did you really cum? That’s fucking disgusting!” He watched the hole close up, then turned his attention to Jon’s face. The archivist turned away, crying and ashamed. “You really must be a monster to cum from that.” Elias snickered, climbing off the table. He undressed, and tossed his gloves in the trash. His body was smeared with blood, but he didn’t seem to care. He was still so amused. He walked over and ripped the tape off of Jon’s mouth, taking him by surprise. “Oh, I wish I’d gotten that on video. What do you have to say for yourself?” He smirked.

Jon looked up at him, eyes having trouble focusing. He wasn’t sure what to say. His throat was raw, and his brain was working at half speed. He swallowed hard before he tried to speak.

“I… I don’t know… It just… Happened…” He whimpered. 

“Still too ashamed to admit you’re a freak? Or maybe you’re just desperately clinging to whatever shred of decency you have left. God, you really are pathetic. Pathetic and disgusting. I may be a monster, but at least I don’t try to pretend I’m not.” Elias huffed. He walked back over to his desk, putting a few more things on the small table as Jon lay there, weak sobs overtaking him. Everything hurt. He just wanted it to stop.

Elias wiped his hands off on a towel as best he could, taking out his phone again. He walked back over to Jon, that glint back in his eyes.

“We’re going to take some more pictures.” He announced, smiling. Jon hated that smile more than he ever had before.

“Why…?” Jon croaked, looking absolutely miserable by this point.

“Because I’m your boss, and I said so.” Elias grabbed Jon’s jaw, leaning in and kissing him messily. He looked back at the camera as he did so, and Jon found himself unintentionally doing the same. Elias took the picture as their tongues hung out, pressed against each other, and then a few others as he sloppily kissed Jon against his will. 

Once he was done, he wiped his mouth on his wrist. Jon had no such luxury, instead forced to lay there with his boss’ saliva all over his mouth. Elias was doing something on his phone now.

“Oh, Peter’s going to _lose it_ when he sees that.” He chuckled. Jon felt panic grip his heart.

“P-Peter? Peter Lukas?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Mhmm. I told him I was going to have some fun with you. I like making him jealous.” Elias smirked, presumably hitting send, and setting his phone aside. “Don’t worry, I’ve instructed him not to share with anyone. But if you try to disobey me… Well, it can’t be helped if the pictures find their way to your friends…” Jon wanted to throw up. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to panic. Right now, there was no reason for Elias to send those pictures out. It was blackmail, sure, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Elias’ phone pinged, and he looked over at it for a moment before turning his attention back to Jon.

“I like to make him wait.” He said, picking up his phone anyway and opening the camera again. Jon groaned in pain and frustration as Elias walked back over to him.

“Aren’t you done with me yet…?” He asked weakly. Elias just laughed in response.

“Oh, no. Of course not. I haven’t had this much fun in ages. I’m not eager to end it.” He replied, using his free hand to unstrap Jon’s ankles. He got up on the table again, moving Jon’s legs to either side of his hips. He was spread open now, Elias’ still-hard cock not too far from him. “I think I’m ready to fuck you, though. Really fuck you, I mean.” He said, holding up his phone. “But first, I want to hear you beg for me.” His voice was ice cold, making a chill run up Jon’s spine.

“B-Beg…?” He asked, his throat closing up. Elias nodded.

“It’d be in your best interest to make it good, too.” He looked smug, knowing Jon would have no choice but to do it. “And don’t even think of trying to use your powers on me. Because I brought a hammer and a pair of pliers, and I am _more_ than willing to leave here with a few of your teeth as a keepsake. Got it?” He asked. Jon nodded.

“Y-Yes.” He said finally, swallowing hard.

“Good. Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and make things a little easier for you.” Elias said. Jon wasn’t sure what that meant, but Elias didn’t seem keen on elaborating. Instead, he hoisted Jon’s hips onto his lap for easier access, and began to rub his bloodied cock against Jon’s wet, sensitive entrance. He turned on the camera, and looked over it at Jon.

“What’s your name?” Elias asked. Jon swallowed.

“J-Jonathan Sims…” He answered.

“What are you?” Elias asked, a steely glint in his eyes. Jon fumbled.

“Th-The Archivist?” That clearly wasn’t the right answer.

“ _What are you_?” Elias asked again, voice firm and cold. Jon swallowed, feeling his stomach twist.

“A monster…” He said, looking ashamed. Elias gave him a look. He wanted more. Jon swallowed down a sob. “A filthy, disgusting, pathetic monster…” He said, looking up for approval. Elias smiled.

“How do we know you’re a monster?” Elias asked.

“I… I…” Jon was fumbling again, but Elias already seemed to have his answer planned for him. Before Jon could react, he grabbed his knife again, plunging it into Jon’s throat. Jon cried out, the sound only coming as gurgling as he coughed up blood. Elias yanked the wicked serrated blade out, watching and filming voyeuristically as Jon frantically coughed blood all over himself until his throat had healed itself up. Elias tilted the archivist’s head up, showing off his throat to the camera.

“That’s one thing that shows how little humanity you have left in you.” Elias said, looking smug as ever. “I could go over your insatiable appetite for other people’s suffering, or your other abilities, but I think right now… I want to show off something more special.” Jon swallowed the blood still in his mouth and throat, looking at Elias in terrified anticipation. 

His boss moved the knife to Jon’s abdomen, where he’d sliced him open the first time. He pressed the flat of the blade against it, tilting it slightly so the serrated edge dug lightly into his flesh. Jon let out a soft whimper.

“Do you want it?” Elias asked, voice low and husky. “Do you want me to cut you open?” Jon was too humiliated to answer. He looked away, trying to hide his face in his shoulder. Elias sighed and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head up and slamming it back down on the table. Jon cried out, but when he turned to look at Elias he was greeted instead by a fist to the side of his nose and a sickening crunch, followed by a spurt of blood. He coughed and gagged, waiting for the next blow that didn’t come. His nose fixed itself, and he looked back at Elias, blood all over his face now. He must really look like a wild animal, he thought.

“I asked you a question, Jonathan.” Elias was smiling again, that polite businesslike smile that had made Jon feel only slightly uneasy when they first met, but now was staring him down with the intent to cause him as much pain as possible..

 **_Answer it, you stupid fucking animal._ ** He could hear Elias’ voice in his head now as the blade cut into his skin deeper. Jon whimpered.

“Yes..” He said quietly.

“What was that?”

“Yes! Please, please cut me open!” He cried, his will finally shattering. “Please, I want it, I want to be hurt, I want to be tortured! I deserve it, I’m disgusting!” He was losing it now, he could feel it. His brain felt like TV static. He was smiling, near delirious with both pain and humiliation. “I’m a filthy monster and I deserve to be hurt! I deserve to be cut open and have my insides groped and fucked!” He could feel himself getting wetter as he spoke, his clit aching. He finally looked up at the camera instead of the knife, his eyes wild and his grin wide.

In one quick motion, Elias sliced deep through his flesh again, and Jon cried out with something that he was no longer sure was pain or pleasure. Elias held the wound open, showing off Jon’s insides to the camera.

“Do you like this?” He asked coldly. Jon nodded, unable now to take his eyes off the opening in himself, at the blood dribbling down his stomach and towards his chest.

“Yes.” He moaned, “Yes, I love it~ Please, fuck me, fuck my filthy insides…” He begged. Elias snickered and adjusted himself so he could do just that, his cock easily sliding into the hot, slick opening he’d made in his archivist. Jon arched his back, crying out desperately. Elias slowly started to move, making sure to get everything on camera. Especially the faces and noises Jon was making.

“How does it feel?” He asked, eyes trained on Jon’s.

“It’s so good, it hurts but I love it! I love the pain, I love being abused, I deserve to be treated like the monster I am!” He whined, practically sobbing. “Please cum in me, cover my disgusting guts in your cum~! Fuck me until I break! F-Fucking ruin me~” Jon could feel Elias’ cock twitching in him again. He wanted it so bad. He was so close, so close to cumming again. He wanted it more than anything. Wanted to feel that intoxicating high of intense pain and pleasure crashing together and tearing his body apart.

“Are you going to cum from this?” Elias laughed. “You _are_ disgusting, aren’t you?”

“Yes~!” Jon cried, “I’m going to cum, please, please let me cum~!” Tears streamed down his face, mixing with his blood. 

“Fine then. Cum.” Elias kept fucking him, and Jon finally went over the edge, crying out unintelligible things the whole time, begging and pleading and sobbing, unsure anymore how much of the intense feelings were searing, horrible agony and which were his intense, electrifying orgasm. And then someone was laughing. It took Jon a moment to realize it was him, laughing psychotically, sounding nearly as deranged as the Distortion when it wore the face of Michael Shelley. He laughed and laughed. It felt so good and it hurt so badly, he couldn’t do anything but laugh. Tears ran down his face. 

When he’d finished, Elias had already pulled out, and his wound was mostly done healing. He looked up at his boss, panting, tongue hanging out of his mouth. He was exhausted, but the camera was still on him. Elias rubbed the bloodied head of his cock against Jon’s cunt, plunging into him all at once. Jon cried out in ecstasy, lightheaded from overstimulation and probably blood loss, but he didn’t care. This was the best he’d felt all day, maybe in his whole life. He couldn’t stop now, even if he wanted to. And he definitely didn’t want to.

“Why don’t I cum here instead?” Elias smirked. Jon nodded fervently.

“Will you unstrap my arms? Please? I want to do something.” Jon looked hungrily at the knife that had been set aside. Elias hesitated, but he unstrapped Jon’s wrists from the table, watching as the archivist sat up, hesitating for a moment because he was so dizzy, but he grabbed the knife, holding out his arm and raking it across the soft flesh there in a long deep diagonal cut.

Elias smirked, watching as blood spurted forward lewdly, splattering both of them before the flow calmed down, still pouring quickly down Jon’s arm and dripping between them as Elias pulled the archivist into his lap to fuck him, blood slicking his cock and mixing with the archivist’s wetness . Jon was making delirious noises, and in his daze he smeared the blood across his mouth and then kissed Elias hungrily.

“Cum in me~” Jon begged, blood and saliva dribbling from his tongue. “Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but I need it~” There was a desperate, whiny edge in his voice, Elias picked up his pace, fucking Jon deeper and rougher. Jon could feel how close he was, his cock harder than it had been this whole time. It was just as desperate to cum in him as Jon was to feel it fill his womb.

Elias took the knife from Jon, digging it into the archivist’s thigh as he came in him. Jon moaned loudly, cumming again as he felt his boss’ cock pumping him full of his seed. Before it was even entirely over, Jon felt his vision getting hazy again, his grip getting weak. Everything in his body felt heavy as he fell backwards onto the blood-slick table. 

He felt another pang of agony in his thigh where the knife had been driven, and watched with unfocused eyes as Elias held up a small piece of flesh he’d cut off. The last thing Jon saw before he lost consciousness was Elias placing the small chunk of meat on his tongue, grinning wickedly as he turned the camera off.

***

Jon didn’t dream.

When he woke up, he was laying on the floor of his own office, feeling lightheaded. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something moving. He turned his head as his eyes focused on the blurry shape, and he realized it was Elias when he spoke.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I knew you’d come to if I gave you enough time.” He smiled.

“How long was I out…?” Jon asked, sitting up, his breath catching in his throat when he realized how much his head hurt.

“Oh, a couple of days. You didn’t miss anything much. I told everyone you were attacked, but I left it at that and brought you in here to heal yourself up. But I brought you some statements! You must be quite worn out.” Elias knelt down in front of the archivist, patting his cheek condescendingly.

“You…” Jon swallowed hard, feeling bile rise in his throat as he remembered what had happened. “You strapped me to a table… You cut me open and…” He closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady.

“Oh yes, it was quite a fun time! You seemed to enjoy it yourself there at the end. The pictures and videos came out quite nice, too! I can send them to you if you’d like.” Elias smiled, that dark glint back in his yellow eyes. Jon couldn’t say anything. He covered his mouth with his hand, shaking his head. “No? Suit yourself then. I know I’ll be keeping them around though. I wouldn’t want to forget such a fun bonding experience!” Elias stood up, setting a box of statements on Jon’s desk. He said something else to him before leaving, but Jon wasn’t listening. His mind was being flooded with memories of what had been done to him. The pain, the agony, the…

The pleasure…

Jon shook his head, tears welling in his eyes.

“No, no, no…” He murmured to himself, voice wavering. “No I can’t… I can’t have…” He tried so hard to push it out of his head, but the images kept coming. He could see himself, and realized that Elias must have put the memories in his head. Jon wanted to scream, wanted to get angry and throw things and knock over shelves and _kill_ …

He exhaled, breathing uneven and shaky. He stood up as best he could, and walked the few steps to his desk. He sat down, resting his head on the cool, varnished wood that had almost become his home over the past few years. His eyes focused on nothing, and his chest felt heavy. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to confront that a part of him, a frighteningly large part of him, had enjoyed what Elias did to him. He didn’t want to think about how he’d never cum that hard before, how even now his insides squirmed and ached with want, with hunger, far more than statements could provide. He closed his eyes, and let a hand wander down the front of his pants.

...Maybe he would think about it just a bit...

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I hope you enjoyed this. Is that weird to say? Probably.  
> Anyway I wrote this in a sleep deprived frenzy very early in the morning months ago. I've read over it several times and talked myself in and out of posting it, but I figured I've seen worse stuff posted. So why the hell not cater to the like... two other people in this fandom who might be into this.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it! Comments are always appreciated, but it's completely understandable if you don't wanna leave them on this lmao.  
> Thank you so much! I hope to write more soon!
> 
> Supplemental: Haha, i've seen the tiktoks now! I can only hope this becomes my legacy lol. I feel like people should know I'm not a woman btw lol. I'm a gay trans man if anyone would like to report back to tiktok about it! Thanks so much for all the sweet comments, and that cosplay was such an honor ;-; I'm fine if it takes my writing getting made fun of to get it out there! This has actually been a huge source of motivation for me as a creator


End file.
